


Fuck You Flowers

by Fwufferson



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Arthur is very gone on Merlin, Arthur owns a floral shop across the street, I thought it was time it saw the light of day, M/M, Merlin is a Little Shit (Merlin), Merlin owns a tattoo shop, i wrote this five months ago and have just been staring at it since then, that's a lie i'm procrastinating studying my Netherlands quiz tomorrow, the tattoo artist/florist au no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:13:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26503450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fwufferson/pseuds/Fwufferson
Summary: Arthur had a very delicate ecosystem he'd created within his shop and Merlin had to go and fuck it up. But Arthur found he didn't mind too much.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 204





	Fuck You Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> So. Should I be studying? Yes but we're not here to talk about that, we're here to collectively enjoy these two idiots. Plus, most likely you are also procrastinating so, neither of us have any room to talk.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Also, comments are always welcome!

Arthur grinned, taking a slow drag from his coffee as he watched the man across the street stride up to his shop doors. His dark hair was particularly ruffled that morning and a frustrated frown was settled across his lips. He juggled his keys for a moment before slipping them into the lock and pushing the door open. The lights were flung on in the shop and Arthur watched as he went to the back.

Arthur doesn’t believe he’s ever seen the man look like this before. He’d not even turned on his sign for heaven’s sake, the neon blue letters spelling out _Emrys Ink_ dark in their swirling font.

That didn’t last long though seeing as another man strolled in like he had nothing going on and nowhere to be. Athur had met him a few times, his name was Gwaine and he'd come in to try his way with him, but Arthur quickly shut it down.

Gwaine walked by the front window, turning the sign on. Iit almost looked like magic in the way that it glittered in the early morning sun. He then proceeded to stop and shout something into the back. It was loud enough Arthur could almost hear it straight across the street.

The man stumbled from the back with his head thrown back in laughter, something Arthur wished he could hear, as Gwaine shook in his own laughter. The way the man had thrown his head back let Arthur revel over the long line of his neck, pale and striking against the dark mop of his hair and the darkness of his jacket.

Arthur shook his head and turned back to water his flowers as he pushed all the thoughts about the gorgeous man out of his head. After all, he had his own business to run and couldn’t spend all day dreaming about peeling the leather jacket off the gorgeous man, hoping to find out if he had any tattoos of his own.

Though if Arthur had the time to think about it, he would think the man had a large tattoo that spread over the expanse of his back, stretching from shoulder to hip, and, if he really, truly had the time, he’d imagine it would extend further. Trailing down his hip perhaps, curling around to his stomach. If he had the time to assume, he’d like to believe that it was something striking, brightly colored that would stand out against the pale expanse of his skin, something that would suit his rumpled hair and leather jacket. And if Arthur _really_ had the time to think about it, he would imagine running his fingers through the man’s hair, following his sharp cheekbones and down to his chest tracing the path that his tattoo created.

But Arthur was much too busy to truly think about these things, among other, much more tiring thoughts that would leave him standing in the fridge in the back for half an hour.

~~~

The bells over the door rang as Arthur was in the fridge. He set the five gallon bucket down with a grunt, turning to smile at the awaiting customer. Gwen was standing there with a grin, a takeout bag clasped in her hands.

Arthur’s smile melted into a genuine one at the sight of his friend. “Have I ever told you how much I love you, Gwen?”

She let out a laugh, striding over and setting the bag before him. “Not nearly as often as you should.” She leaned against the counter, her dark eyes lighting up as they took him in. “So,” she tried. “How was last night?”

Arthur let out a groan, pulling his stir fry from the bag.

“That good, huh?” Gwen chuckled, smiling sympathetically. She took her own food from the bag, beginning to pull the top open.

Arthur let out another groan, stabbing at the food in front of him angrily. “He was an ass. Didn’t even stick through the entire date.”

“I’m sorry, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Ever the sweetheart, Gwen reached over, patting his hand.

Arthur let out a grumbled thanks, before a realization hit him. He narrowed his gaze, looking up at the woman who seemed to be contentedly picking through her orange chicken. “Gwen,” he slowly said. She hummed, eyes flickering up to his for a moment before back down to her food. “You didn’t just come here to give me food, did you?”

Arthur could’ve sworn her face darkened, but she resolutely kept her gaze away from him. She stayed silent.

He let out a slightly startled gasp. “It’s not!”

She let out a groan of her own, setting her food down to give him a tired look. “You couldn’t even give me the decency to ask on my own, could you?” She grumbled. Her hand reached into her purse, pulling out a small black box. Arthur let out a gasp as she opened the top. “I came to ask for your blessing.”

Arthur, if ever asked, would never admit it. Because it didn’t happen. He did not let out a squeal of delight. Those noises just were not produced by him.

If they were, however, to be made by him, then he would say that this would be an occasion that such a noise _might_ happen. But it didn’t happen and no one asked and so it would’ve been slander to say otherwise.

“Of course you have my blessing!” Arthur exclaimed, excitement filling him at this news. After all, Gwen and Morgana had been together for years now, and he was getting quite tired of both of them never popping the question. “Gwen this is great! I’m so happy for you two!” He leaned across the table and pulled her into an awkward and uncomfortable hug.

She laughed, but hugged him back. “I’ve not even asked her yet, Arthur.”

“Doesn’t matter she’ll say yes. I know it, you know it, the whole bloody country knows it.”

Gwen laughed again, pulling the ring box back towards her. Arthur had to admit, it was truly stunning, a simple diamond setting. Closing the box she slipped it back into her purse. “I was going to ask Uther, but, well, he still thinks we’re roommates,” Arthur winced. “Besides, she values your opinion more than his.”

Arthur grinned, sitting back down. “Unbelievable. You finally got the balls to do it.”

Gwen snorted, picking at her food again, though she certainly seemed much more relaxed than when she first entered. “Not having balls is the point of being a lesbian, Arthur.”

The rest of Gwen’s lunch break was spent by arduously dragging out what she had planned for her proposal.

~~~

Arthur thought it was a normal day. He’d watched Emrys (as Arthur had dubbed him) go into his shop, watered the plants, filled a few orders, watched Emrys expressively talk on the phone, and Gwen had brought him lunch. It was a completely normal day and Arthur was completely happy with that.

Until Emrys had to go and fuck up their unspoken agreement.

Arthur’s eyes widened as he watched the other man shove his phone in his pocket, shout something at Gwaine, who was working on someone, before pushing out the door. The look on his face was one Arthur had never seen and he was slightly ashamed to admit the bout of excitement at seeing how the man’s gaze darkened and his brows pulled together.

That excitement though lasted only a few seconds as he saw where Emrys was headed. His head quickly whipped both directions before he jogged across the street and straight for Arthur’s shop.

He froze from where he had been fussing with a particularly difficult bouquet that Gwen had asked for to send to Morgana for a week of wooing before she actually popped the question. Sometimes, his sister and his best friend disgusted him with how in love they were. Not that he wasn’t happy for them, he was, but he was just tired and needed to get laid.

His fingers were still buried in the blooms, their petals soft and cool against his skin. It was by the time Emrys was stepping onto the curb that Arthur was struck with panic because he was headed for _Arthur’s_ shop.

The man yanked the door open with more force than seemed necessary, but Arthur was a little preoccupied by the way the leather of the other man’s jacket lifted higher on his wrist and revealed what looked to be the start of a tattoo sleeve.

Arthur could’ve dropped dead right there.

Emrys, Arthur was happy to find, had startlingly blue eyes that swam with a fury that left Arthur warm despite how cool he tended to keep his shop. Under the jacket that almost seemed like a second skin to the man, a dark red shirt clung to his chest in ways that left Arthur leaning against the table for support as he felt a warmth pool at the bottom of his stomach.

A small part of Arthur’s brain seemed to be working even though it seemed like all the blood in his body was traveling to places he’d really rather not think about right now lest he have to lock himself in the fridge for the rest of the day. That small part was what plastered a grin to his lips, and somehow choked the words “how can I help you today?” from his lips.

Arthur almost jumped as the man slammed a hand down on the counter between them. The fury in his eyes seemed to spread as his lips pulled into a snarl. Arthur had an odd feeling of trying to calm a wild animal before it struck.

“I need a bouquet that means ‘fuck you’.” The man almost growled which really just didn’t help Arthur’s situation in the slightest. Arthur tried to subtly wipe his palms on his pants, his brows furrowing into what he hoped was polite confusion.

“Uh, come again?”

The man’s face seemed to assess him before it broke out into a grin as he held out his hand to introduce himself in an almost cheerful tone if it wasn’t for the look blazing in his eyes. “Hi, I’m Merlin Emrys, I run the parlor across the street. I need a bouquet that says ‘fuck you’.”

Arthur didn’t know what to focus on; the rapid change of the man’s demeanor, the fact that he now knew the man’s real name, that he seemed to see a need to add that he worked across the street, or the odd request of the arrangement. Instead he just slowly slipped his hand to the outstretched one and gave it a firm shake.

Merlin seemed to take his silence as a reason to explain further. “It’s for my brother, and I can’t very well send him a stripper again because he’s staying with our mother so this is the next best thing.”

Arthur felt his mouth drift open, but no sound came out, struggling to find words. “I’m,” he worked his jaw for a moment trying to finish his thought, but every working brain cell seemed to die at the exact same time. “Sorry?”

The heat in Merlin’s eyes seemed to die down and his plastered grin slipped into a more genuine one. His eyes drifted over Arthur’s face, down his neck and across his shoulders. Arthur could’ve sworn he felt heat in his gaze as it took him in.

“Flowers?” Merlin tried, shifting his weight so he was leaning against the table.

Arthur scowled at his tone, crossing his arms. “Yes, I understand,” Arthur bit out, his eyes dragging down to where Merlin’s jacket sleeve had hiked up his arm when he shifted. It looked like gold ink in a swirling pattern, but the majority of it was still covered. It gave Arthur a rush to see any of it, to just have the knowledge that it was there. “But most people don’t come in asking for a, “Fuck You” bouquet.”

Merlin let out an undignified snort, rolling his eyes. “Yes well, I don’t believe most people are as petty as me either, so.” He met Arthur’s gaze again, grin still curling his lips. “Can you make one?”

Arthur bristled slightly. He didn’t even know why, it was a simple enough question, but the way the man said it and was looking at him almost seemed like a challenge. “Can I make one,” he grumbled, looking back down to the bouquet in front of him as he began to fuss with the arrangement once more. He sent a glare back up. “What kind of florist would I be if I couldn’t? Can I make one! Do you know how insulting that is?”

Picking up the bouquet, Arthur went over to the fridge in the back and carefully placed it on a shelf. He’d heard the other man follow, which honestly didn’t do anything good for Arthur seeing as he always went to the fridge to get _away_ from thinking about Merlin. It seemed he was hell bent on completely destroying the delicate world Arthur had created within his shop.

“So I take it, I’ll be able to pick it up soon? Say tomorrow?” Merlin asked, seeming to hide a laugh in his words.

Arthur glared, as he turned around, prodding him out of the doorway to close the fridge. “Yes, yes, if you’ll just get out.” He grumbled, going back to the front counter and grabbing his notebook from beneath. “Can I make one. Unbelievable.”

Merlin seemed very amused at Arthur’s attitude. “I’ll come by the same time tomorrow for it?”

Arthur just glared up at him again before waving him off, making a chuckle startle from his throat. The noise was sudden and unexpected, and as the man turned to leave, Arthur felt his face redden at the sound.

The bell over the door jingled, and Merlin glanced back with one last grin.

“See you tomorrow.”

~~~

As Arthur put on the finishing touches, adjusting certain blooms into the position he wanted, he took a moment to grin to himself. If he were to be completely honest, he didn’t completely hate the bouquet.

It was certainly garish, don’t get him wrong. But it just seemed to add to it’s charm. He had taken to the bright colors and hidden meaning and was thinking of adding it to his display.

The bell over the door rang, making him look up from where he was working. A brightly grinning Merlin stood inside, sending a hand to ruffle the water from his hair. He looked utterly ridiculous, his hair sticking in all directions and water dripping from every article of clothing, but Arthur had to admit he found it slightly endearing.

Merlin’s eyes lit up as he caught sight of the arrangement in Arthur’s hands. “Is that it?”

Arthur looked back down at it, trying to remove every thought about how Merlin’s shirt clung to him under his jacket, leaving little of his defined chest to the imagination. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. This is it.”  
  
He picked it up and took it over to the front counter. Merlin excitedly bounced over, leaning over and seeming to inspect every bloom and bud. “What are their meanings?”

Merlin looked up at him through his lashes, leaving Arthur slightly breathless at how he almost looked nervous. His grin turned almost shy and his ears seemed to be darkening.

“Uhm,” Arthur intelligently said, gaping for a moment as Merlin straightened. “Well, petunias, mean resentment and anger. I assumed you would be mad at whoever is receiving this. Orange lilies mean hatred, for maybe anger doesn’t quite completely cover it. Peonies mean shame and monkshood means beware. And then, of course, the morteus which means fuck you. I just took a stab at how angry you were at this person. The rest are just filler really.” Arthur had let his gaze drift down to the bouquet in front of him, gesturing to each flower. He didn’t even notice how his other hand had reached up and absently scratched at the back of his neck.

The grin that was settled on Merlin’s face was one that simultaneously thrilled Arthur and left him feeling a bit of fear for the person on the receiving end. He decided then and there he’d hate to get on Merlin’s bad side.

“It’s perfect. Mordred’s going to hate it.” Merlin reached to his back pocket and brought out his wallet.

Arthur began to ring it up. He glanced at the other man who was still staring at the bouquet. “If you don’t mind, how does one exactly warrant a Fuck You bouquet?”

Merlin snorted, eyes flashing as he met Arthur’s gaze. “My brother is an ass, that’s how.”

Arthur let out his own huff of a laugh quickly doing the transaction. “I know that feeling all too well. Siblings are meddlesome creatures.”

Merlin tilted his head, his grin melting into a soft smile. His eyes seemed to drag across Arthur’s face in appreciation. “You’re not quite what I expected, Arthur.”

Merlin scooped up the arrangement, already headed for the door before Arthur could even fully process his words. He furrowed his brow. “Wait, how do you know my name?”

Merlin laughed, pausing in the doorway. “It’s stitched on your apron.”

He sent one last teasing grin before he was out the door and headed back across the street, using his body to protect the delicate blooms from the pouring rain.

~~~

A day went by before Arthur qualified it as the weirdest week he’d experienced. Which included the week after Gwen and Morgana had told him they were together.

Today, the sun was shining, the traffic seemed to be less, and he was planning on closing up early to maybe go to the park. It was a perfectly wonderful day. But of course it didn’t stay that way because when had things ever been perfectly wonderful for Arthur Pendragon.

Arthur was poring over the books as the door was thrown open, almost taking it off his hinges and scaring him half to death. In the doorway a man with curly black hair and a very angry look stood. He looked oddly familiar in a way that made Arthur freeze.

He could’ve sworn he’d seen a very similar look on someone’s face not too long ago.

“You!” The man shouted, his face filling with rage. Arthur’s eyes widened, hand reaching for the tire iron he kept under the counter for robbers. “Are you the asshole that runs this place?” He asked, stopping before the counter.

Arthur stood from his chair, slowly licking his lips as he tried to think of a way to diffuse the situation. “Yes, I’m Arthur.”

It was then the door was flung open again, this time a familiar person shuffling in. Mop of black hair and dark leather jacket that seemed much too warm for the weather.

Arthur kicked himself. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about such things.

The man didn't even turn to the door, and it clicked why the angry look was familiar. Arthur’s eyes seemed to widen even further at the realization.

Merlin glared at the back of the other man’s head, striding up to him. “Is this idiot bothering you, Arthur?” Merlin asked, grabbing said idiot by the back of his neck. The other man’s eyes flashed. “Ignore him, Mordred forgets there’s a way to deal with things and it’s not to take it out on anyone surrounding him.”

Arthur stared, mouth opening and closing in a very undignified way as he watched the two glare at each other. “I- uh-”

“You hypocrite!” The man, Mordred it seemed, shouted at Merlin. “You didn’t even have the guts to say it to my face! You sent me fucking _flowers_. Who does that!” Mordred crossed his arms, snarling.

“How do you kill a plant in one day! You didn’t even have to water it!”

“I told you it was an accident!”

“How do you accidentally throw a plant off a balcony?”

“There was a spider!”

Arthur didn’t know what to make of the two glaring at each other, so instead, he went back to his books, deciding to allow the men to work out their problems. He promised himself he’d only get involved if they started throwing punches.

Merlin seemed to notice Arthur’s diverted attention, so he took things into his own hands. He shoved Mordred out the door with some muttered words, scowling as the younger man went back across the street to the parlor. Merlin turned back around with a grin on his face. “I apologize about him, never quite understood that he’s got to find a fun way to get back at me instead of just yelling.”

Arthur shrugged, leaning against the counter as he felt his own grin take over. “My sister and I are the same. Though I tend to be the one doing the yelling.”

Merlin wandered back over to the counter, bright grin still lighting up his features in a delightful way. He leaned a hip against the counter, bringing them closer than Arthur thought he could possibly handle at this time. Merlin’s grin slowly turned into a smirk as he dropped his gaze a bit. “I bet you would be.”

Arthur felt himself redden, heat flooding not only his face but areas that tend to leave him a bit out of commission. His jaw dropped as Merlin’s grin returned, eyes glinting in amusement. “You can’t just-” Arthur cut himself off. “We hardly know each other!”

Arthur ignored the voice in the back of his head that was reminding him of every time he’d imagined the man before him.

Merlin tilted his head slightly, eyes dragging down Arthur’s form in a way that left him feeling naked despite the fact he _most certainly_ was _not_. “We can fix that.”

Arthur seemed to flush harder, which only amused the other man further. He sputtered for a moment, indignant noises spewing forth and Arthur knew he’d regret later but at the moment his embarrassment was the furthest thing from his mind.

After a minute or two Merlin let out a laugh, taking a pen from seemingly nowhere and grabbing the note sheet Arthur had been doing quick calculations on. He scribbled something across it before standing upright, slipping the pen into his pocket.

“When you reboot, send me a text and we can work out the details.” Merlin winked before turning and leaving the shop with a grin. Arthur watched him cross the street and enter his own shop before looking down at the paper. Scrawled across in a neat and fancy handwriting was a number.

Arthur could’ve sworn he’d died on the spot.


End file.
